


Happy Birthday Love

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5676031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey my birthday is on the 20th and it’s my first birthday without friends or family, so I was wondering if you could please write me a Crowley/Reader smut fic? Where he finds out through Sam and Dean or something and he insists on spending the day with you instead of you sitting by yourself watching Dr. Who and it ends in smut? I understand if you can’t. Thank you!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday Love

Warnings: Language, smut, multiple orgasms, oral

Fic:

The hunt hadn’t gone as expected. You’d gone this one alone, thinking it would be an easy salt and burn case, only taking a few days at most. In actuality, one hunt became two, became three and so on until about a month had passed. Today was your birthday and since you were stuck out in the middle of Nowhere, USA, you had no one to celebrate it with.

Sam and Dean had called you earlier in the day to wish you a happy birthday. They told you that they wished they were there and to give yourself a break for the day. For you, a break meant curling up on the couch with a blanket and your favorite snacks while watching Doctor Who on your laptop.

That was exactly what you planned to do. After making a “supply run” for snacks, you head back to your motel room, ready to carry out your plans. You shut the door and lock it behind you.

“Hello Darling,” a voice says from behind you, making you jump. You drop your bag of snacks and pull a knife from your boot, turning to face the intruder.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you say, your heart still racing even after you realize it’s only Crowley. He sits in an oversized chair, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Well, I wouldn’t say just me, but yes it is me,” he says.

“Why are you here?” you ask, curious about what he wanted now. He stands from the chair almost lazily, sighs, and swirls the scotch in the glass.

“I’ve been told it’s someone’s birthday today and I thought they might like some company,” Crowley tells you.

“You’d do that?” you ask.

“For you Love?” Crowley responds, “Anything.” You had to admit you had a crush on the King of Hell, but you never really considered him a friend. Frankly, you never thought he considered you to be anything more than an annoying thorn in his side. Almost all of your previous encounters involved innuendos and sarcastic remarks that were rewarded by the eye rolls of Sam and Dean. Normally, Crowley seemed angry with you because you had spoiled one of his plans or another.

“Who told you it was my birthday?” you question.

“My spies,” Crowley answers before laughing at your expression, “Sam and Dean told me. They said Castiel was stuck doing business in Heaven and they felt bad that they couldn’t be with you, so I gladly volunteered to spend the day with you.”

“Thanks,” you say, oddly touched by the fact that Crowley wanted to spend your birthday with you.

“No need to thank me Love, I’m happy to finally spend some alone time with you,” Crowley answers, “Now I’d like to take you out if you’re ok with that.” Crowley snaps his fingers, making his glass disappear before holding his hand out to you. You reach out and take his hand; you realized that this could be a trick, but surely he wouldn’t kill or kidnap you on your birthday right?

Crowley snaps his fingers and the world shifts before you find yourself sitting in an empty theater. You settle into the large plush chair before turning to Crowley. “What are we watching?” you ask.

“We’ve got the whole theater to ourselves,” Crowley answers, “It’s your birthday, what would you like to watch?” You respond with one of your favorite movies. Crowley offers you a smile before snapping his fingers, your selection playing on the large screen. You’d seen the movie so many times that you could quote practically every line. You tried to keep from embarrassing yourself in front of the King of Hell, so you mouth the words instead of saying them out loud. Crowley looks over to you and laughs, “How many times have you seen this movie?”

“Once or twice,” you respond as your cheeks heat up. Thank god the room was dark, you didn’t want Crowley seeing you blush. You leaned back as far as you could, trying to hide in your chair, but you got the feeling that he was still watching you. The rest of the movie goes by and the credits finally roll as the lights coming on.

“I take it you enjoyed the film,” Crowley surmises. You answer ‘yes’ and laugh nervously. “Hungry?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?” you answer.

“I could eat,” Crowley answers. He snaps his fingers and the world shifts again. This time when the world steadies, you find yourself in your favorite restaurant, seated in a darkened corner in a circular booth.

“Careful Crowley,” you warn, “Dinner and a movie, this is starting to look more like a date than a birthday celebration.”

“Perhaps it’s both,” Crowley states simply. A waiter comes over to welcome the two of you to the restaurant and hands you each a menu. “Order anything you like Love,” Crowley tells you, “Dinner’s on me.”

“Are you sure?” you question.

“Like I said before, for you Love, anything,” Crowley answers. You smile at him before turning back to the menu. When the waiter returns, you order your favorite meal and drink, Crowley doing the same.

“That’ll be right out,” the waiter tells you, though you wouldn’t mind if the chefs took their time.

“So, is this a date then?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

“How would you feel about dating the King of Hell?” he asks in return. His question takes you off guard. Honestly you weren’t sure how to answer, so you ask your own question instead.

“How do you want me to feel about it?” you inquire.

“Oh Love, just wait till I get you back to that motel room,” he says, his voice low, “Then I’ll show you exactly how I want you to feel.” Your eyes go wide and you swallow thickly, your mouth slightly agape as you continue to stare at him.

The waiter comes back with your drinks and it’s only then that you come back to your senses and shut your mouth. You thank the waiter before taking the drink between your hands. Instead of looking back at Crowley, you watch as the beads of condensation slide down the cup and over your fingers.

“Sorry,” Crowley says after a time, “Did I offend you?”

“No, it’s just, well,” you begin, unsure of what to say, “There’s no one here, so who are you trying to impress with your innuendos?”

Crowley just laughs, “You Love. Even when there are other people around, you’re the only one I even care about impressing.”

“Really?” you ask, your heart fluttering. Crowley smiles at you, a sincere smile, not an apologetic one or a smirk. He reaches out and caresses the back of your hand, wiping away some of the liquid that’s run over your hand before taking your hand in his. His touch is warm, especially compared to the cold drink you’d just been holding.

“I like you, I have for a while now,” Crowley confesses, “I must admit, I’ve wanted to ask you out for some time now and when I learned you were spending your birthday alone, I thought it was the perfect excuse to spend some time with you.”

“So my birthday is just an excuse?” you ask, just trying to fluster him. It works.

“That’s not at all what I meant,” Crowley says quickly, “I, I just, I wanted to spend some time with you and I thought you’d be less likely to refuse if I was offering to spend your birthday with you.” You can’t help but laugh, you’d never heard him sound so flustered. His face was even turning red.

“You didn’t have to wait for my birthday,” you tell him, running your thumb along his knuckles, “You could’ve asked me out at any time and I would’ve said yes.”

“I … you,” Crowley begins, but is cut off by the waiter bringing the food. He sets down the plates, asking if there’s anything else you need to which you respond, ‘no thank you.’ The waiter leaves, leaving you alone with Crowley again. Since the booth is circular, you scoot your plate a little closer to Crowley’s and slide across the seat to be closer to him. Crowley watches you before mimicking your movements, sitting so close to you that your knees touch.

“You like me so much that you want to be closer to me?” he asks jokingly.

“No, sorry,” you tease, “I just wanted to be closer to your food.” You snag a piece of food from his plate, causing you both to laugh.

The waiter comes by from time to time, checking on you and refilling your drinks. When you’ve almost finished your food, he comes by and asks if you’d like any dessert.

“Well, seeing as it’s someone’s birthday, I think we should have a piece of cake,” Crowley says, pointing indiscreetly at you. Crowley orders your favorite flavor and the waiter leaves to fill your order.

“Thanks,” you say sarcastically, “If they start singing, you’re a dead man.”

“Would it help if I sang too?” Crowley asks.

“Maybe,” you respond, “By the way, how did you know what flavor I wanted?”

“I pay attention,” Crowley answers with a shrug.

The waiter comes back, a group in tow. He places the giant slice of cake in front of you and, of course, begins singing. You bury your face in your hands as your cheeks turn red. Crowley sings along with the group and you have to admit you like hearing his voice, that British accent gracing every word of the song. Finally, the waiters and waitresses leave.

“You’re still a dead man,” you warn as you pick up a fork. Crowley chuckles. You share the cake, which is perfect by the way, with Crowley. When you’re about halfway through the cake, you notice Crowley has stopped eating and is staring at you instead. “What?” you ask, wondering why he’s staring at you like that.

He reaches out, hooking a finger under your chin, his thumb hovering over your lips. “You’ve got frosting,” he says before licking his lips, “May I kiss you?” It feels like all your breath has left your body.

“Yes,” you respond breathlessly. Crowley leans in slowly, his lips pressing to yours. Crowley’s tongue slides across your bottom lip, removing the frosting and drawing a soft moan from you. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. You move one of your hands to the base of his neck, playing with the short hairs there.

One of his hands slips around to your lower back, the other to the base of your neck. You pull Crowley closer, your tongue fighting his for dominance. “We should get out of here,” Crowley mumbles against your lips. You readily agree. Crowley snaps his fingers and the world shifts.

“Did we just dine and ditch?” you ask.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s already paid for,” Crowley tells you, “I even brought the rest of the cake.” He puts the box of half eaten cake in the mini fridge before turning back to you.

“Where did you take me?” you ask, looking around the room. This definitely was not the cheap motel you’d been staying in. The bed was large with a carved headboard, huge fluffy pillows, and a soft comforter.

“A nice hotel,” Crowley responds, “Unlike those rundown motels you and the Winchesters are so fond of.” He smirks before he takes you into his arms again.

“So, now that you’ve got me alone, how exactly did you want to make me feel?” you question. Crowley smirks before pushing you back until your back hits the wall. His lips crash against yours and his tongue invades your mouth. Your hands move up to Crowley’s tie, pulling it loose and letting it fall to the floor. The buttons of his shirt are your next goal. His lips break from yours as he pulls your shirt over your head.

Crowley tosses the material to the side before his hands make their way to your back. He unhooks your bra and pulls the offensive material from your body. You push the shirt and jacket from his shoulders before dragging your fingertips down his chest. His lips capture yours again as he takes one of your breasts in his hand, kneading the flesh and rolling the nipple between his fingers. You card your fingers through his hair as his lips begin moving along your jaw, down your neck, and along your collarbone. He sucks your free nipple between his lips, flicking the hardened bud with his tongue.

His kisses continue down your body as he drops to his knees, his tongue dipping into your belly button as his fingers work at the button of your pants. He pulls the zipper down before his eyes flick up to meet yours as if asking for permission.

“Please,” you mumble. Crowley smirks before pulling your boots off one after the other. He pulls your socks off next before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your pants. You wiggle your hips as he pulls the material down and casts it to the side. His hands slide up the backs of your legs until they reach your ass, squeezing the flesh as he pulls you away from the wall.

“I bet you taste so good,” Crowley grumbles as he leaves kisses up your thigh, “I bet you’re already wet for me aren’t you?”

“Crowley,” you moan. He kisses your clit through your panties, causing your hips to buck forward. Crowley grasps your ass tighter, holding you close to him. He kisses and nips at your skin, heat flooding your body with each touch. His grabs the elastic band of your panties between his teeth and pulls them down your legs, his eyes on yours the whole time.

“Hold on to something,” he warns as he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. You reach one hand to the side, holding on to a nearby dresser while you tangle the other hand into Crowley’s hair. He lifts your other leg over his shoulder before he grasps your ass again, holding you still as he leaves a long, broad lick along your folds. He sucks your clit between his teeth before licking a second stripe along your folds

“Crowley,” you gasp, needing more. Crowley sucks, nips, licks, and kisses you in all the right places. His tongue teases at your entrance and your grip on his hair tightens, begging him for more. Crowley dips his tongue into you before pulling back out and moving up to your clit. You look down at him as he moans, sending vibrations straight to your core. Crowley holds you tightly as he buries his face between your thighs, his beard tickling your skin. You rock your hips forwards trying to gain more friction as he fucks you with his tongue.

A knot begins to form in your stomach and your muscles tense. “Crowley,” you moan, “I’m - I’m.” Crowley growls, the vibrations sending you over the edge. “Crowley!” you moan as your walls clamp down around his tongue. Crowley licks you clean before he stands from the floor, your legs still over his shoulders. You squeal as Crowley slides you up the wall and you squeal again as he drops you, catching you so that your legs wrap around his waist.

“You taste even better than I imagined Love,” Crowley whispers into your ear. He rocks his hips against you, his hard cock prodding you through his pants. You groan loudly as Crowley pushes his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on him.

He carries you to the bed and pulls the sheets back before laying you against the mattress. He unbuckles his belt and kicks off his shoes before toeing off his socks. His hands work quickly to undo his pants before pushing both his pants and boxers down. Crowley’s thick, hard cock springs free and your head falls back against the pillows as you imagine all the things he could do to you.

Crowley moves to hover above you, kissing your neck and collarbone. You reach down between you and wrap your hand around his leaking cock, using the precum dripping from his tip as lubricant as you pump your hand over him. Crowley hisses before pushing your hand away.

“This is your birthday,” Crowley tells you, “Not mine.” He kisses your lips before kissing his way down your body. His lips wrap around your already sensitive clit as his fingers begin to trail along your folds.

“Crowley,” you groan, bucking your hips towards him.

“You’re a greedy one aren’t you?” he mutters against your skin, “Already begging for more.” Crowley props himself up on his forearm as his thumb rubs slow, steady circles around your clit. He rocks his hips down against the bed, trying to gain some friction for himself as he watches you writhe on the bed. His fingertips dance along your entrance before he slowly pushes his middle finger into you.

You rock your hips against his hand, pressing your clit to the heel of his hand. Crowley smirks as he slips another finger into you and curls them, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You moan as he scissors and curls his fingers. Your hands fist in the sheets as pressure builds within you once again. Crowley slips a third finger into you and your walls begin to flutter.

“Crowley,” you groan. You writhe on the bed as you lift your hips, desperately chasing your orgasm as you fuck yourself on his fingers. Crowley curls his fingers one last time, causing you to cry out his name as your walls grip his fingers. He pumps his fingers in and out slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm as you come down from your second high. “Crowley I need you,” you say reaching out to him. Crowley smirks as he licks his fingers clean of your juices before he leaves kisses back up your body.

“Still begging for more,” Crowley muses. He snaps his fingers, making a condom appear on his cock before he settles himself between your legs. Resting a forearm on either side of your head, he leans down and kisses you as he rolls his hips, sliding his hard cock through your folds.

You lift your hips in response, trying to get him to enter you. One of Crowley’s hands trails down your body, wrapping one of your legs around his waist before lining his cock up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as he pushes into you, stretching and filling you completely. You moan as he completely sheathes himself inside you.

Crowley wraps a hand in your hair, his lips moving against your own as he begins thrusting. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, over and over again. “You feel so good,” Crowley groans, his lips moving to your neck. You drag your nails along his scalp and back as you lift your hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

Each of his thrusts are deep, hitting your clit with his pelvic bone each time. You moan his name again and again as he brings your over stimulated body closer to climax once again. The knot reforms in your stomach and your leg tightens around his waist. Crowley grunts with each thrust, his cock twitching as his thrusts fall out of rhythm and become erratic.

You pull Crowley’s lips back to yours as your orgasm washes over you. Your walls clamp down around his cock, sparking his orgasm. Crowley groans your name as his cock pulses, spilling himself into the condom. His thrusts slowly come to a stop as he rests his forehead against yours, your breathing returning to normal. Crowley’s lips meet your own as he pulls out of you slowly.

He removes the condom and lies by your side, pulling you to him. You rest your head against his chest as you trace random patterns along his arm. His hand runs soothingly up and down your back.

“Happy birthday Love,” Crowley whispers.

“Thank you, for everything,” you tell him, “You’ve made today one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.”

“Only one of the best?” Crowley asks, “Not the best?”

“Well …” you tease.

“I suppose I’ll just have to try harder then,” Crowley says before capturing your lips again.


End file.
